


In the dark blue sky you keep

by loosingletters



Series: Lost Tales of Gotham [8]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Justice League: The Flashpoint Paradox
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dimension Travel, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 20:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20748440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters
Summary: Her son had green eyes.Her son was dead.Martha Wayne, the Bat of Gotham, woke up in a world where her son never died. The difference is startling.





	In the dark blue sky you keep

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompt at tumblr. I abridged it because this was already 1.400 words and I didn't want to introduce even more characters and make it longer still.

Her son had green eyes.

Her son was dead.

Reflexively, Martha grabbed the imposter, clone, hallucination, _Fear Toxin_. Had someone finally figured out her identity? Was it Crane? No, he wasn’t smart enough on his own, maybe Two-Face had helped or Black Mask. He had been pretty annoyed she and that upstart with Joker’s old moniker had been decimating his empire-

“_Grandmother!_ You’re hurting me!”

Bruce was struggling against her grip, cursing in Arabic under his breath, and Martha finally remembered. Shocked, she let go of Damian, who was quick to take a few steps back.

“Damian. I- I apologize.”

The teenager just sighed, feigning calmness, while still staring at her hand. He looked a lot like Talia wearing that expression. In her _homeworld_ – dimension traveling was a concept Martha still wasn’t comfortable with – Talia had been a girl just as stubborn and proud as Damian. After her death, Martha had often wondered who she could have become, hadn’t the world wanted to get back at Ra’s al Ghul. It was strange to see a world where she had a son.

Where Martha’s son was a father himself.

“It’s fine,” Damian said. “I’ll tell the others to wake you with a broom or a ruler like we do with Baba. And breakfast is ready. Alfred said you can eat upstairs if you want to.”

She had eaten breakfast with everybody else for the past five days, even if it had been uncomfortable to sit next to Thomas again. This other world’s version of him was rough, broken. He didn’t resemble the sweet man Martha recalled. But she supposed she wasn’t much like his wife either. That Martha Wayne had fallen into despair and madness, thriving in the blood splatters of the Joker.

She hadn’t locked down her emotions like a Kane, taken off her wedding ring and traded it for a knife to become someone, _something _different.

This Bruce probably recognized neither of his parents in these killers wearing their faces.

“Do you have guests today?”

Damian shook his head. “No, just a full house. Everybody’s home again for the first time in weeks, so we’re all eating together. It’s become somewhat of a tradition. Baba wasn’t sure whether you or Grandfather would be up for that.”

Martha was the Bat.

Her life had never been a question of if she wanted to do something. She had to.

“Of course, I’m coming. I’d like to meet the rest of your siblings.”

“I’ll tell Alfred.”

Damian rushed out of her room – a guest room outside of the family wing of the manor – on silent feed. None of the people in Bruce’s family made a sound unless they wanted to. Martha hadn’t been able to stop herself from imagining what assets they must be on the battlefield.

Martha had never taken on a side-kick, or a hero in training, as the Justice League liked to call their junior members. Not that Martha was much of a hero or a vigilante with her poisons, syringes, knives and the League of Assassins on speed dial. She had worked together with the Justice League a few times when the whole world had been threatened by outside forces, but their methods didn’t agree with each other. She thought children were too young for Gotham, any city at all, and they hadn’t approved of the blood trail she left behind.

Martha got dressed. Alfred had rushed to a store after the first day so she could wear clothes that didn’t belong to her grandson’s ex-girlfriend. He had returned with a full batch of outfits, all similar in cut and style to what she used to wear.

Martha hadn’t had the heart to tell him she hadn’t worn a skirt in two decades.

After making sure she was presentable, she left to go to the dining room. Martha had gathered that they usually ate in the kitchen when only four members of the family were in the manor, but since her and Thomas’s arrival, they’d taken to eating in the dining room. With so many people attending – she’d heard a few names being dropped over the past days – they needed the space.

On her way across the manor, she encountered Thomas. He was finally clean-shaven and, wearing Bruce’s shirts, he appeared much younger than he had when they had first arrived.

They both mustered each other, but none of them really knew what to say.

“My room has a mural,” Thomas spoke up. “It’s a mix of spray painting and acrylics.”

Martha had seen a couple rooms decorated like that.

“I think that’s Damian and Duke’s work.”

“The meta?”

Her Thomas used to love giving speeches. He could talk for hours about what fascinated him without taking a break. When Bruce had been- He used to give Bruce biology lectures to fall asleep to.

This Thomas was talkative if he said more than ten words.

“Damian mentioned boding with Duke over art,” Martha continued. “Bruce allowed them free reign of the guest wing as long as they don’t make Alfred disapprove.”

“The manor’s messy enough by his standards already.”

Martha wouldn’t necessarily call the manor messy. It was just more lived-in than what the two of them were used to. There was a distinct lack of breakable vases, and many paintings had been taken down to be replaced by family portraits or paintings done by Damian.

The rugs on the ground weren’t as bright and clean as they used to, but Bruce had said that multiple of his children were friends with speedsters. She’d also found rations of non-perishable food hidden in different corners, an immeasurable amount of cats, a skateboard, toys, instruments, posters, stickers and everything else that belonged in a good home with happy children.

The closer the two got to the dining room, the louder did the voices become.

“And I’m standing there, baby vomit all over my uniform, still holding the kiddo and go ‘Sir, you just violated 34 laws and-‘”

“Timothy, I saw your schematic for a hoverboard, and I was wondering if you would-“

“-too much to ask for one mixed productions where a guy plays a female lead? If you don’t have enough men to cover all male roles, just mix it up completely, why can’t they-“

“Don’t even think of stealing my chocolate, I dare you.”

“-and the kid won’t stop crying. The guy is crying too. And I still had a date to go to.”

“I have _multiple_ degrees and I’m ‘not qualified enough’. Just say you don’t want to hire a woman in a wheelchair and be done, but don’t waste my time.”

“-I’m a broke bitch these student loans can’t kill me-“

“You’re literally putting caviar on your eggs right now, Steph. I know Bruce gave you a credit card, what student loans-“

“Anyway, so I’m running an illegal betting pool at school-“

“Lively, aren’t they?”

Bruce was smiling, looking at his kids discussing heatedly at the table behind Thomas and Martha. Helena, who had been resting in his arms, was now wide awake and squirming. Bruce sat the toddler down and she rushed over to the rest of her siblings.

“The one picking Helena up is Jason, my second son and third eldest. You already met Duke and Damian and heard Tim when he checked the portals you arrived through for abnormalities. He’s the one falling asleep over his cereals. Steph is the blonde one talking to him, gesturing at her food. She was the one to lend you her clothes. The girl beside her is Cassandra, my first daughter and actually second eldest. You know Kate and Bette, I assume? Dick’s my oldest, and he’s the one reenacting the chokehold with the banana. The one who kept the water bottle from falling over next to him is Barbara.”

That had surprised Martha.

“The Commissioner’s daughter?”

Bruce nodded. “Yes. Jim pretends he doesn’t know and we give him space for plausible deniability. It makes holidays very interesting.”

The children kept talking, exchanging stories and snacks, and the tiny toddler in-between them. There was a warmth to their interaction Martha hadn’t felt in years.

“They are strong,” Thomas said.

“They are beautiful,” Martha added, though the term was a poor substitute for what she actually wanted to say.

They’re _alive_.

She hoped Bruce wouldn’t catch on, but his eyes were already narrowing in concern.

It was easy to forget she wasn’t the only Bat in Gotham anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Martha's backstory here is that her son and husband died. She then began to train to find the man who killed them to avenge them. She's losely a member of the League of Assassins. She went to them for training and for some reason my brain thought it would be hilarious if she met a young Talia, who then died, and Ra's al Ghul and Martha became well friends? over the bonding experience that's being too late to save your kid. So, yes, she kills.  
Thomas is Flashpoint Thomas but not current City of Bane Thomas because fuck that. He's wary of metas due to his world's general chaos and unlike Martha doesn't adapt as quickly to this new world. How the ygot here? No idea this is a one shot.
> 
> Either way, I'd love to hear what you think!


End file.
